


I Hope You'll Think of Me

by regardinglove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, M/M, Nerd Dean, Punk Castiel, Temporary Amnesia, nerd!dean, past dean x jo relationship, punk!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1420885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regardinglove/pseuds/regardinglove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up in a hospital with amnesia and doesn’t remember anything about his life. It then becomes Cas's job to remind Dean of what his life was beforehand and relearn their love story from the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hope You'll Think of Me

Cas knows what Dean would say to him if he were conscious right now. _Stop worrying about me; I’m going to be fine like always._ But Dean isn’t conscious and things aren’t fine.  
  
The breathing machine attached to Dean beeps for the thousandth time in an hour and it only reminds Cas of where he is. Dean, his beautiful Dean, is fighting for his life while Cas sits around and watches. The doctors say there is nothing he can do to help, only to wait with them to see if Dean regains consciousness. He tries not to dwell on their word choice. Not when, but if. Cas can’t even get himself to entertain the thought that Dean could die here in this bed, become a cold and hollow shell. He refuses to acknowledge the fact that Dean should have died in the car accident, refuses to even think about the words of the doctor ringing through his head like a bullhorn. _It was nothing short of a divine miracle he survived, Castiel. If he does pull through there is a good chance he will be permanently damaged. He may never speak again, walk again._ It took all of Cas's willpower not to punch the doctor in the throat right then.  
  
He sighs heavily as he gets up from his chair, walking slowly over to Dean. He looks so solemn in his sleep, his skin a sickly pale white like old snow. The only source of color in his face is those cherry red lips that never fade. He remembers all the times he’s kissed that mouth and it only makes him shudder. He needs to feel those lips beneath his again, craves the connection where Dean always comes so alive. He needs the energy that Dean emits anywhere he goes, and under all of this hospital gear Cas can hardly feel the warm glow of Dean. It scares him more than anything those doctors could say.  
  
He takes Dean’s bandaged hand and wraps it in his own, his thumb roaming over the exposed fingers. The cuts there only give him flashbacks to the scene of the accident, the utter despair that overtook him when he was called on site to identify Dean’s body. He looked so broken on the ground, those EMTs tirelessly working over his figure. He was there when one of the technicians pulled out a watch and declared time of death. Cas would never forget slipping to the ground, not even caring about the pain that rushed through his body when his knees slapped against the wet pavement.  
  
But he also wouldn’t forget the miracle that came shortly after that horrible sentence. Dean’s eyes ripped open with a heaving gasp of his chest as consciousness thrummed through his system. It only lasted long enough for Dean to look over and connect one fleeting gaze with Cas before collapsing back onto the ground and into sleep.  
  
That was three weeks ago and still nothing has changed. Dean still lay like a zombie in his hospital bed, and Cas is sure he’s going to lose his mind if that Winchester doesn’t fight his way back to this world soon. He be damned if he thinks for even a second that Dean isn’t alive in there, kicking and punching his way through who knows how many inner demons to come back to Cas. It is what he would do if the situation were reversed, anyway.  
  
Three knocks at the door tear Cas's attention away from Dean. One of the nurses enters with a smile that is too bright for Cas's mood, and it slowly fades as she takes in his returning glare.  
  
“Sorry to interrupt, Castiel,” the nurse says kindly, “but it’s time to check up on Dean. If you don’t mind…”  
  
“Its fine, Jess,” Cas replies quickly, lightly laying Dean’s hand back on the bed. “Just come get me when you’re done.”  
  
The woman pats his shoulder as he walks away and Cas automatically feels bad about glaring at her earlier. Jess really is Cas's favorite nurse out of them all, and she’s way kinder than that snooty Raphael who takes Dean’s vitals every morning.  
  
“Hey, Jess?” Cas says with his foot halfway out the door.  
  
“Yes, Castiel?”  
  
“Just…thanks,” he replies quietly, closing the door behind him before she can give a response.  
  
He never knows what to do when Dean is getting checked out. Sometimes he wanders the halls of the retirement home wing, taking time to talk to the neglected grandparents who can’t take care of themselves. Other times he is content to sit in the waiting room and make conversation with the receptionist, Gabriel, even though half of the time Gabe is making some bad joke that only pisses him off. But today he takes a different route, finding himself wandering down to the church chapel of all places.  
  
The sanctuary is empty when Cas enters, the silence ringing in his ears. He uneasily takes a seat towards the front and cups his face in his hands, getting down on his knees. Cas didn’t grow up religious and he has no idea how to pray, but he hopes this is what you’re supposed to do.  
  
“I don’t know if anyone is up there,” Cas whispers to the empty room, “but I need help and I don’t know where else to turn. Dean…he’s pretty hurt. They say he may not live and…I don’t think I can handle that. They say it’s a miracle he survived the crash in the first place so if there is anyone up there who gives a damn can you please save him? He’s a good man, no, the best man I know and if anyone deserves a second chance at life it’s him. So…please. Whoever or whatever you are, please just do this one miracle. Just…please.”  
  
Cas looks up and expects to find some divine presence standing there but he sees nothing. No blow of the wind, no flickering of candles, nothing to indicate that his prayer was heard. He sighs. _It was worth a shot, I guess._  
  
“Castiel?”  
  
He jumps up from the ground to find Jess waiting in the chapel doorway, her face absolutely ashen.  
  
Cas immediately runs forward. “Jess? What’s wrong?”  
  
She leans up against the archway for support. “It’s Dean. He’s awake.”

* * *

 

The pain is what hits him first as his mind rips back into consciousness. Everything feels like razors stabbing through his veins and he momentarily wishes for the black stupor that had overtaken him before. Then the light hits his eyes and he automatically recoils. Why is everything so bright? Why is everything so blurry? Where is he? What even happened? Wait a minute…who is he?  
  
“Dean?”  
  
His eyes wander the room frantically until they land on a man standing before him, the figure a blurry mess before his gaze. His mind can’t seem to remember anything right now but clearly he’s a guy with horrible eyesight. He sees the figure move forward and hand him a pair of thick rimmed glasses. When he manages to put them on properly he immediately knows that he must be dead because he’s looking at an angel.  
  
The man before him is in tight jeans and a black t-shirt underneath a leather vest, and he has dark hair that is tousled in a disarray. Tattoos line his forearms and he has a massive nose piercing, but the man doesn’t look threatening. Instead he looks incredibly concerned, the guy's cerulean blue eyes pulling him into a trance. The man leans over and he sees tears well in those eyes, spilling over when the man lays a hand on his chest.  
  
“Dean, oh god!” the guy cries out, gripping his hands on both sides of the bed. “Don’t scare me like that ever again!”  
  
A realization hits him quickly.  
  
“Who’s Dean?” he says out loud. The name rings familiar in his ears but he makes no connection.  
  
The man backs away and throws him a quizzical look. “What do you mean ‘who’s Dean?’ That’s your name. You’re Dean Winchester and you’re in the hospital.”  
  
Dean Winchester. At first it only leaves a very large question mark in his head, but slowly he feels a memory crawling back to the surface, slithering through his mind like a snake. When it connects, he jumps a little in surprise.  
  
“Of course,” he whispers. “I’m Dean Winchester and…” And what? He’s Dean Winchester, but what does that mean? Who is he? How did he get here, and why the hell can’t he remember anything?  
  
“And I’m Castiel Novak,” the man replies softly, his lips upturned in a polite smile. “Do you really not remember me?”  
  
Once again Dean tries to pull back the forgotten thought, but this one doesn’t stick. He can feel the creeping of the memory sliding through his head, but he can’t make the connection. Unlike the first time this one seems to slip through the cracks right when he is about to remember, like a twisted game of hide and seek.  
  
“I’m sorry, but I don’t,” Dean says back. “I wish I did though. You’re a cute one.”  
  
The man blushes in response and Dean automatically regrets the words. He just got out of a coma; better hold back the flirting until he knows something other than his name.  
  
“I was afraid this would happen,” a woman to his right says, a blonde in flowery scrubs. “Amnesia is always a possibility with a head injury like yours. Granted, it is better than what we originally expected but still is a problem nonetheless.”  
  
“Wait, are you implying that he doesn’t remember anything?” the man, Castiel is it?, says a bit harshly.  
  
“Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying. And I know you probably have lots of questions Mr. Novak, but Dean really does need to rest and visiting hours are over in five minutes. It’s time to go now.”  
  
“Rest? He’s been out for three damn weeks,” Castiel mutters under his breath.  
  
Dean quickly thinks its a real shame he doesn’t remember the guy; he’s attractive and sassy.  
  
“Amnesia is a tricky problem and too much information at one time could overload him,” the blonde says, walking over to push the man out of the room. “You can come back tomorrow and maybe Dean will remember more by then, but for now visiting hours are over and you will have to leave.”  
  
“Fine,” the man says bitingly. “I’ll be back in the morning. Night, Dean,” he says with a wave.  
  
Dean smiles and waves back, catching one last glimpse of Castiel’s gaze before he walks away.  
  
_Castiel?_ he thinks. _Well, I’ll be damned if I don't remember you one way or another._

* * *

_Amnesia? The man who has never forgotten a day of his life has amnesia?_  
  
Cas sits in his quiet office as he muses over the thought, stirring his coffee with a little more force than necessary. Final exams from his students are strewn out around him that desperately need grading, but he doesn’t have the patience for freshman thoughts on ecology right now. Cas has got problems bigger than a student fighting him about the realities of global warming, like the fact that his own husband doesn’t remember him.

  
He absentmindedly twists the golden band on his finger with the thought, only put there four months prior to the accident. His mind flows with memories of the simple ceremony they had, only close family and friends allowed. Cas smiles when he remembers how nervous he was; he even flubbed his vows for a second and said his name instead of Dean’s. Of course he felt like an idiot, but Dean only laughed rapturously and muttered how much he loves Cas under his breath, pulling him in for a quick kiss before they continued on. Dean whispered in Cas's ear that night that it was the best day of his life, and now he has no clue who he even is. The thought makes Cas's gut twist in anxiety. What if he never remembers?  
  
He doesn’t get a chance to ponder more before his phone rings obnoxiously, breaking his train of thought. One look at the caller ID has Cas's heart racing.  
  
“…Dean?” he answers loudly, breaking the suffocating silence around him.  
  
“Hiya, Cas. Mind if I call you that? It seems right.” Dean’s voice seems strong and confident over the phone, and he almost fools himself into believing nothing has changed.  
  
“You always used to before,” he says dryly, completely unsure of how to respond. Jess said too much information could break him and that’s the last thing Cas wants to do.  
  
Dean laughs lightly and Cas can almost feel that little grin that must be on his face. “Well they finally released my phone back to me. Jess made fun of my Nokia phone when she handed it over, but it survived a confrontation with a hydroplaning semi truck, so who’s laughing now, huh?”  
  
Cas's heart soars with the words. “So…you’re remembering things now? Is that why you called me?”  
  
A harsh sigh rings from the other end of the line. “I don’t know, man. I remember the accident pretty clearly now, but nothing else. The last thing I saw was a huge semi running a red light and smashing right into me and then nothing. Just…a bright light consuming everything in sight. Then blackness, and then waking up in the hospital with no identity. It’s friggin’ terrifying, if that helps at all.”  
  
“Anything else?” Cas asks hopefully.  
  
“Yeah…that’s why I called. I remember you, Cas. At the accident site. You were there and I saw you for a few seconds, but I still have no clue who you are or why you looked so broken.”  
  
Cas spits out a harsh gruff to himself. _Why I looked so broken? The best thing in my life was on the ground half dead. That’s enough to break anyone._ But of course he doesn’t say this.  
“Jess told me not to bombard you with too much information, Dean, but just know that you’re someone very dear to me and seeing you like that was…tough.”  
  
“Fine, fair enough. I don’t want to be more messed up than I already am. Is there anything you can tell me, anything at all? I can’t sleep and I won’t be able to unless I have some grasp on who I am.”  
  
Cas ponders over this for a few seconds. “You’re good at pool, really good. When we first met you hustled me out of sixty bucks in five minutes flat at a bar downtown. My friends told me to call you out on it, but I was too impressed to do anything.”  
  
Dean huffs out a light sigh. “Damn, guess I can’t relearn those tricks in a day, huh? But really, we met at a bar? You must be quite a guy to hang around after I scammed you. Wait…I’m not in some kind of freaky servitude to you, am I?”  
  
Cas tries to conceal it, but he can’t keep back the giant laugh that reverberates though his chest. “Oh god, I hope not. You just stole my attention pretty quickly that night and I’ve been around ever since.”  
  
“Hmm…well that’s pretty vague. You going to tell me more, then?”  
  
“I really shouldn’t,” Cas replies through his teeth. “Jess will have a heyday if you wake up tomorrow with all of your memories in tact. She’ll know I talked to you and I’ll be in for it. Best wait until we get more information about your condition before I recite your life story.”  
  
“I guess you’re right, but now I know that you have lots of information on me. I must a little special to you.”  
  
Cas wants to say _Oh you don’t know the half of it, Dean Winchester. You’re my rock, my anchor, my everything and you have no damn clue_ , but of course he holds back.  
  
“Yes…you’re more than just a little special-”  
  
“Oh, dammit. Cas, I’ve got to go. I hear Jess coming and-“  
  
“Dean Winchester! What do you think you’re doing!” a shrill voice rings out from the other end of the line.  
  
“Crap. Bye, Cas. See you tomorrow.”  
  
And with that the phone line goes dead, only the hollow beeping left to fill Castiel’s head.  
  
_You’ll remember, Dean._ Cas thinks. _You have to._

  
The night was long for Dean after he hung up on Cas. Jess gave him a long lecture about his condition and how fragile his state of mind is. Apparently tests revealed his amnesia is rarer than most; if he learns too much at one time his brain could overreact and cause him to go into a catatonic state for who knows how long. The trauma was worse than they feared, so Jess declared that should try to relearn everything on his own with little bits of help here and there. She went on after that, but it was all technical talk and Dean’s mind was way past the wandering stage.  
  
He didn’t sleep at all, his mind too preoccupied with that misty feeling in his thoughts. He tried reaching into that depth, that murky darkness that was his psyche, but he felt like he was grasping at straws. Every time he thought a memory was approaching he mentally strived for it but always came back empty. It was driving him up a wall, not being able to hold any concrete thought. Dean sighs as he once more tries to wade through the waters, but of course nothing happens. He feels like the Great Wall of China is standing in his mind like a huge barrier, everything he’s ever known held captive on the other side.  
  
Dean turns over with a loud sigh and looks at the clock. Bright green numbers that read 9:37 AM glare back at him, only a reminder that he did not sleep for a second last night. He’s just about to try for sleep again when a light knocking at the door disrupts him.  
  
“Jess, I swear to God if that is you I will throw a fit. I’m fine; you don’t need to check on me every two seconds.”  
  
“…Dean?” a light, unfamiliar voice rings out from the doorway.  
  
A man who is ridiculously tall enters, his face full of concern. His hair, in Dean’s humble opinion, is way too long and is almost brushing his shoulders and a pair of hazel eyes stare back at him.  
  
A light smile breaks over the guy’s face. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”  
  
Dean actually feels himself blush. “Sorry man, I really don’t remember much of anything.”  
  
“Huh, figures. Jerk,” he says with a sly smile.  
  
“Bitch,” Dean replies as a reflex reaction, catching himself offguard. Wait a minute…why does this conversation feel like deja-vu?  
  
And in an instant of clarity Dean feels like he’s flying as he remembers. The far left side of that mental wall crumbles to the ground as images swirl through the gap and into his mind with a blast of color, memories rising to the surface. He remembers everything about him and the man before him, his brother Sam. Pictures of the brothers hunting with their father as kids run through his thoughts, Dean protecting Sam from a bear twice his size. Images of them playing in their neighbors backyard, them swimming in the lake outside their neighborhood, and other childhood memories creep to the surface. Then a next wave hits and it is them as teenagers, driving around in their dad’s Impala the minute Dean got his license, blasting Kansas songs all the way down the freeway. The image shifts to the boys in high school, Dean fighting off a school bully that was giving his Sammy a hard time. Memories of graduations, birthdays, weddings, and late night talks roar into his mind. Images of Sam through his youth, laughing and crying, raging and sighing race into memory, and Dean remembers it all. Of course, how could he forget his own brother?  
  
“…Sam?”  
  
His brother’s mouth opens in a wide smile as approaches Dean’s bedside, patting him on the shoulder. “I knew that would work. Welcome back.”  
  
“I remember you,” he says in absolute awe, his mouth opening into a surprised ‘o’ shape. “You’re my brother, how could I possibly forget you, Sammy?”  
  
Sam laughs brightly, throwing a lazy grin in Dean’s direction. “Beats me; I’m pretty unforgettable if I say so myself.”  
  
“I forgot how full of it you are,” Dean replies jokingly. “Maybe that’s something I would rather forget.”  
  
“Oh shut up and come here,” Sam says with fake harshness in his voice, leaning down to pull Dean into a tight hug. The embrace rushes through his system like a fresh breath of air, rejuvenating his body. He didn’t know how much his missed human contact until now.  
  
“Glad to know you two are getting reacquainted.” Jess stands in the doorway with a clipboard in hand, her blonde hair thrown over one shoulder. Dean realizes quickly that her gaze is not directed at him, but is instead fully focused on Sam. The absolute adoration in her eyes makes Dean’s mind tingle with that familiar misty sensation, and it takes no effort at all this time to extract the forgotten memory from the depths.  
  
“Oh God, Jess…are you my sister-in-law?”  
  
Her smile gleams and lights up the room as she approaches his brother and leaves a light kiss on his lips. “Not yet, but soon enough. We’re getting married next month and you’re in the wedding. You're Sam’s best man, after all.”  
  
Dean can’t help but smile at that; he knew he liked Jess for a reason. “Well then, I better get a tux, huh?”  
  
Sam and Jess both smile hugely at that, Sam wrapping his arms around Jess’ waist. “Well I don’t think it will look too professional to have you up there in your hospital gown.”  
  
Dean’s about to respond but a figure in the door stops him. Cas stands off to the side with a saddened look in his eyes, those blue depths pulling him in like a tide to the shoreline. Sam and Jess turn to find Cas there and Dean can automatically see the change in them. Their happy demeanor fades and they break apart from one another, keeping their eyes on the ground.  
  
“We’ll…let you two be,” Sam says quickly as him and Jess exit the room, closing the door behind them.  
  
The silence between them stretches out for who knows how long as Cas leans against the door frame. Dean wants nothing more than to break the silence, pull a joke, anything to make this any less awkward, but all he can do is stare into those eyes and try to remember anything at all about this Castiel. The emptiness that comes with the name is enough to rip Dean apart.  
  
“So…” Cas says after a few minutes of silence. “How are you doing with…remembering stuff? Anything else come up yet?”  
  
“I wish it was better, but I’m making progress. I remember Sam and most of our childhood together; we were never really separated for any amount of time I guess. I remember that Jess is engaged to my brother, and that’s about it for now. I’m sorry I still don’t know who you are; I feel like a huge douchebag because of that.”  
  
“That’s amazing progress, Dean. The other memories will come in time. Besides, I have an idea to spark some old memories, even if it is a little dangerous.”  
  
Dean immediately perks up. “Cas, I’m so desperate for any new information that I will do anything.”  
  
The other man grins as he avoids Dean’s gaze, his eyes set on the ground below his feet. Dean can’t help but notice his stomach does a little flip when Cas smiles, and he definitely won’t admit that the sun hitting Cas's face makes him look like a divine angel of some sort.  
  
“Okay, hear me out,” Cas says in a flustered voice. “So I read this book about amnesia after your accident and I learned that going to places where memories happened can trigger them in the brain. Now I know you don’t remember me, but maybe you would if I took you to the places we’ve been together. Jess told me earlier that it is very possible but also potentially risky. You could remember too much and go into overload, or it could not work at all, but it is at least worth a shot, right?”  
  
Everything in Dean’s body is telling him no, his mind blaring that this is too risky and he could end up a catatonic nursing home patient after all of this is over, but his soul is raging with a fire that he can’t put out. He needs to know who he is, so it takes no time at all for him to respond.  
  
“I’ll do it. When do we start?”

* * *

  
“Castiel! Wait!”  
  
Cas is walking down the hospital hallway when he hears Jess calling from afar, her bright voice reverberating through the empty space. Her blonde curls bounce as she chases after him, her chest heaving heavily as she slides to a stop in front of Cas's face.  
  
“Jess? What’s going on?” Cas asks worriedly. He’s only been gone from Dean’s side for five minutes; nothing could have happened in that time, could it?  
  
“Nothing, you’re just a really fast walker and I’m a really slow runner,” Jess gets out between breaths. It is only then that he realizes that she has a Ziploc bag in her hand with Dean’s name labeled on the outside, a gleaming object inside catching Cas's eye.  
  
“Is that…” Cas trails off.  
  
“Yeah, they were able to salvage it from the accident. It was found by the Impala; must have fallen off when he skidded on the ground.”  
  
Jess smiles hugely as she hands over the bag to Cas. He gazes down at the golden ring inside in awe, thinking it was forever lost. Cas's grandmother insisted the day of the wedding that she give Dean his grandfather’s ring as a surprise, saying that she wanted to keep it in the family. Of course Dean loved it, but they never bothered to get it resized. When Cas started visiting Dean at the hospital and saw the absence of it on his finger, he never thought he would see it again.  
  
“It’s a little dented and scuffed up from the fall, but a little fixing will make it brand new,” Jess says.  
  
Cas doesn’t know what else to do. He’s so elated he doesn’t even register himself leaning in and grabbing Jess in an embrace, the smell of her peach shampoo wafting into his system. It reminds him of country farms and old orchards; it reminds him of Dean and his ranch they bought outside the city, a place Dean doesn’t remember and maybe never will. And suddenly his embrace with Jess turns into heavy sobbing as the past three weeks and sleep deprivation crash down on him, the physical contact with another human being pushing him over the edge.  
  
“Oh, Castiel,” Jess murmurs into his ear, rubbing small circles into his back. “You’ve been through so much, I can only imagine how you’re feeling.”  
  
Cas tries to respond but his words get stuck in his constricted throat, the tears blurring his vision as angry cries sound from his mouth.  
  
“It’s just not fair, none of this is fair!” Cas manages to get out through gritted teeth, his fists curling up into balls on Jess’ back.  
  
“I know, but possibly this is a blessing in disguise. Think about it; you two get to fall in love all over again! Opportunities like this come once in a lifetime, and think about how strong your relationship will be when Dean’s memories resurface. Don’t give up hope yet, Castiel. In my experience with amnesiacs, the most important facts are the ones that resurface last.”  
  
Jess embraces Cas with one last squeeze before she releases him, holding him at arms length. Her pastel blue eyes glow with a light Cas wishes he still had, hope radiating from her body like a beacon. He quickly tells himself to remind Sam of how lucky he is to have a woman like Jessica Moore in his life.  
  
“You going to be okay?” she asks with a bit of unease in her voice, her face showing her concern.  
  
Cas nods. “I think I’ll be okay,” he replies roughly, quickly wiping the runaway tears from his cheeks. “I just don’t really know what to do and I feel like the world is falling apart.”  
  
Jess grins but the emotion doesn’t reach her eyes. “Things that fall apart can always be repaired. ”  
  
He can’t help but snort a little at that. “Who are you, Yoda or something? You’re just a big ball of wisdom today.”  
  
She lets go of his arms and gives him one strong pat on the shoulder. “You didn’t know? I’m secretly from a galaxy far, far away.”  
  
A loud noise interrupts them, Jess looking down to the flashing beeper on her hip. “That’s a code blue alert; I’m needed in the ICU,” she says. The two share a smile before Jess backs away, turning on her heel and away from Cas. “Things will get better, Castiel. Don’t give up yet!” she calls as she runs, leaving him behind.  
  
_Yeah, I hope so_ Cas thinks as he sighs heavily and walks down the empty hallway, hoping the gnawing feeling in his gut is from hunger and not the desperation he fears.

* * *

  
After twenty-eight days, fourteen hours and thirty-five minutes, Dean Winchester finally walks outside into fresh air and bright fall sunshine.  
  
If he was being honest with himself he was starting to lose hope that he would ever be allowed to leave towards the end. The doctors did extensive tests on his brain to determine if there was any trauma outside of the amnesia and would not discharge him until all of their fears were quelled. Once they finally found out that Dean wasn’t destined to turn into a vegetable, they let him go within hours.  
  
That isn’t the say he didn’t learn a lot about himself during that extended hospital visit though. For one thing, he learned that he’s a huge nerd. Once he remembered Sam and their memories his brother didn’t hesitate to visit him every day until he had to return to Stanford about a week ago. In that time Sam brought Dean tons of library books he used to enjoy, piles of science fiction and Vonnegut novels piling up on the bedside table. Dean consumed them all, relearning the stories that Sam said got Dean through high school. And even though he didn’t remember them all, Dean couldn’t help but get excited when he would suddenly remember the plot halfway through a book, a tiny victory in his eyes. It was small progress, but progress all the same.  
  
When Jess came with the release forms for him to sign he was pretty sure he’d start singing he was so thrilled. With a swish of his hand the papers were covered and Dean was announced a free man. It was only when he put on the outfit Sam brought him before he left and stepped out the door when he realized he had no clue where he was going. Where did he live? What did he do for a living? What good were memories if he couldn’t remember the things that made up his daily life?  
  
“Dean! There you are!” a familiar voice rings out behind him.  
  
He jumps as a light hand lands on his shoulder and he spins around. Cas stands there looking quite startled, his head tilted to the side like a confused bird.  
  
“Dammit, Cas! You scared me,” Dean mutters. “What’re you doing here, anyway?”  
  
“The hospital called me to say you were being discharged. I came to pick you up and make sure you’re okay,” Cas explains. “I didn’t know you would be so fast getting out of there; where were you headed so quickly?”  
  
Dean shrugs. “I don’t know, man. I was just excited to see anything other than white walls so I left without really thinking about where I’m going. It hit me pretty quickly that I have no idea where I live, what I do, if I have any friends? How am I supposed to go through life like this? Where do I sleep tonight, Cas? What if I never remember and have to rebuild my life from the start?”  
  
“Dean, everything is going to be okay,” Cas says calmly. “Your memories will come back, I’m sure of it, but we’ve got more important things to do now.”  
  
“Yeah…like what?”  
  
Cas smiles impishly. “Well, getting you out of that hideous sweater for one.”  
  
Dean looks down and brushes his fingers against the zigzagged design on the front. Sam said it was the only thing he could find that he thought Dean would like, a fact which scared Dean more than any memory so far. Did he really have such horrible fashion sense?  
  
Cas softly laughs at Dean’s obvious discomfort and he can’t help but playfully glare back.  
  
“Oh you think you’re so much better, Novak? Dressing like you’re in a KISS impersonation band?”   
  
“You wanna know something about yourself?” Cas creeps up to Dean’s shoulder and leans in. “You like it,” he whispers in a voice so low Dean shivers. This only makes Cas grin. “Oh c’mon, you’re not afraid of me, are you?”  
  
Dean stays silent for a long while. Of course Cas doesn’t scare him; despite the intimidating appearance it is very clear that Cas wouldn’t hurt a fly. Dean just won’t let himself delve into that part of himself, the big unanswered question that has been racking around in his thoughts for weeks. Who is Cas to him and why does he feel like butterflies are pummeling the walls of his stomach anytime he is around?   
  
When he doesn’t respond Cas pats him on the shoulder and saunters forward, hailing a taxi on the busy street before them. “Spoiler alert, Dean: We’re actually pretty good friends and I intend on having you remember that.” When one of the cabs stops Cas gets in and gestures for Dean to join him.  
  
When he slides into the car Dean automatically gags on the smell there, the taxi reeking of old smoke and alcohol. He’s about to make a complaint but the man up front throws Dean a dark look through the rearview mirror, automatically shutting him up.  
  
“Where to?” the surly cab driver huffs.  
  
“1967 Barnes Avenue,” Cas calls out. “And make it quick.”  
  
“What’s the rush? Where’re we going?” Dean asks as he jolts forward, the cab driver punching the gas like he’s driving a stolen vehicle.  
  
“To a little place I like to call The Roadhouse Bar,” Cas replies. “Dean Winchester, we’re going back to where we first met, and you’re going to remember who I am.”

 

  
The cab pulls up to a place where Dean is sure he’s going to get robbed. The bar is a hole in the wall on the south side of town, broken beer bottles lining the streets with burnt out cigarette butts. Signs for a local band playing at the bar are plastered every two centimeters, covering almost all of the brick surface. And the most terrifying thing of all? There is absolutely no one in sight. The road is abandoned besides a few parked cars and a stray cat wandering around.  
  
Dean watches Cas pay the taxi driver and sees him give a tiny wave as the man drives away, leaving the two men alone. He is about to suggest to Cas that they go anywhere but here, but he doesn’t get a chance before Cas steps in front of him and jiggles the door handle, shoving it open with all of his force. He doesn’t blink an eye as he walks inside and turns around to throw Dean an amused look, one that says “what you waiting for, coward?”  
  
The bar is dark and empty when they enter, the chairs up on the tables. It is, to Dean’s surprise, meticulously clean and feels eerily familiar to him, even though he can’t pinpoint why. The floors reflect back the sunlight that is streaming in through the windows, and the bottles of booze behind the bar are all lined up in a perfect formation. An old jukebox is crooning out a slow Sinatra tune and Dean quickly realizes that one of the closet doors is open, the shadow of a figure looming inside.  
  
“Cas…are we about to be caught breaking and entering? Because I did not get out of that damned hospital only to get thrown in jail!” Dean hisses in a low voice, motioning for Cas to follow him back out the door and away from there. However Cas only softly laughs, that taunting smile back on his face.  
  
“Oh Dean, you really don’t know anything at all, do you?” Cas says in a voice too loud for Dean’s comfort.  
  
“Hush, man! We’re going to get caught if you don’t keep it down!”  
  
The shadow in the closet is moving quickly, the length growing shorter until a woman appears at the door. She’s a short blonde who is wearing a tightly fitted black tank top and a pair of faded jeans, but the most striking thing about her is the rifle she holds in her hands, pointed directly at Cas's head.  
  
“I thought I heard intruders out here,” she says loudly, her posture showing no sign of fear. Her hip is cocked out to the side as she examines Dean and Cas with her eyes, clearly checking to see if they are of any threat. “You know you’ve just committed a crime, boys. I ought to go down to the police and have you two arrested right now.”  
  
“We didn’t mean to!” Dean blurts out, automatically backing up towards the door. “We’ll leave right away, promise!”  
  
The woman looks down at the ground with a loveless smile. “You think that’s good enough, boys? You obviously haven’t hung out around this side of town if you think that we let criminals off easy. I think I have enough room in the back freezer to hide both of your bodies…”  
  
Dean is visibly panicking right now, his lungs begging for the air it cannot reach. He suddenly feels lightheaded and the world feels like it is falling down around him, and Dean is sure that this is the day that he dies. All of that hospital time, all of those lost memories will be gone forever. He will just be another cold case because he’s sure this woman will make sure they are never found.  
  
But when Cas sees him like this his earlier demeanor shifts entirely. Suddenly he is there in front of Dean and is holding him at arms length, staring at him with those piercing eyes.  
  
“Oh no,” Cas whispers, clearly getting nervous himself. “I forgot you’re prone to panic attacks; it’s been so long since your last one. Dean? Dean, listen to me. Breathe in, and breathe out. I’m sorry I caused you to panic but this is all a big joke I set up with Jo over there, okay? Look at her; she’s harmless, see?”  
  
Sure enough when Dean moves his gaze to the woman she no longer has the rifle in her hands but is instead laughing quietly to herself, clearly amused at the situation. It all seems very familiar to Dean in a way, too familiar…  
  
And then once again Dean is taken to another place as his mind races forward, the sensation of a crumbling building reverberating through his thoughts. Suddenly this bar, that woman, all become sickeningly familiar as he remembers.  
  
“…Jo?” Dean says with a sigh of relief. Of course it’s Jo, the girl who used to be his best friend, his closest confidant. He practically was raised in this bar by Jo’s mother, Ellen, who owned the place. The minute he turned twenty-one he called up Ellen and asked for a job as a bartender, and she told him she doesn’t hire guys who read Star Trek comics like it’s their religion. The vision shifts as memories of Dean and Sam playing tag out back with Jo as a kid flow into his mind, followed by images of a teenaged Jo sneaking vodka shots for them in high school. He distinctly remembers that he was against the idea but did it anyway to impress her, trying desperately to dissolve the “nerdy Dean” image he knew she held in her head. He was completely and unabashedly enraptured by her, and when they started dating their sophomore year of high school he was sure they’d last forever.  
  
But the memories make him realize quickly why he feels a pang of guilt looking at her; he broke up with Jo to be with someone else after a whole year of dating and they never really reconciled after. He can see in her posture that she’s clearly uncomfortable, leaning against the bar while looking anywhere but at Dean.  
  
“Hiya, Winchester,” she says quietly, keeping her eyes on the ground in front of her. “Nice to see you again.”  
  
Dean can hear the insincerity in her voice but pushes forward anyway. “Hi, Jo,” he says quietly. “I remember you now.”  
  
“You better; we only spend half of our lives together,” she replies, walking over to the boys.  
  
Without a second thought she leans forward and throws her arms around Dean in an unexpected hug, nuzzling her head into his shoulder. Another bit of guilt washes over him when he realizes this is what they used to do all the time. Dean automatically feels the old flame rising in his system, but is choked off by another feeling he can’t place just yet. Could it be devotion? Confusion? Or is he possibly in love with someone else whom he cannot yet remember?  
  
“So…how much do you know now?” she asks as she breaks away, her eyes catching his like a ray of sunshine. “Any dirty details about me coming to the surface?”  
  
Dean smiles down at her. “I know that we grew up together, that I spent every waking hour here during high school. I also remember that we dated once, right? I remember that it didn’t end prettily, but not much else.”  
  
The woman leans back on her heels and once again avoids his gaze. “Maybe it’s better that you don’t remember the details. We haven’t really spoken much since.”  
  
“Well,” Dean hesitates, wondering if he should go there, “I don’t know what I did to hurt you, but I’m sorry, Jo. I really am.”  
  
She gives a little smile but it clearly does not reach her eyes. Damn, what asshole move did he pull on this girl?  
  
“Really Dean, it’s okay. Let’s just call it water over the bridge. Besides it was for the best in the end. We were too incompatible anyway.”  
  
Dean tries to rack his brain again and sighs when he comes up empty. Whatever he did must be buried pretty deep down there, and maybe Jo is right after all. Maybe certain things are better left hidden.  
  
“Well…how are you feeling?” Cas asks from behind.  
  
Dean spins around to face Cas and can hardly look into his optimistic face. Clearly Cas thought taking Dean here would spur the lost memory of him, but all it did was make Dean remember his old flame. He can practically see the enthusiasm fade from Cas's eyes when he doesn’t make an outburst of understanding.  
  
“I’m sorry, Cas. I really am, but I’m still stumped. I guess this place is just more connected with childhood than it is with you.”  
  
“It’s fine, no need to apologize. We’ll just try the next place,” Cas says with a wave of his hand, but Dean notices that he is clearly saddened. “In fact, if we’re going to make it to the Art Institute before it closes we’ve got to run.”  
  
“Wait wait wait, what memories could be lurking at an art museum? If there is one thing I know it is that I don’t spend my time hanging around with hipster art students staring at paintings of old guys.”  
  
“You don’t, but I do, and a very important memory lies there. I’m hoping it’ll come to you,” Cas says as he gestures to Dean to walk out the door. “See you around, Jo.”  
  
Dean only gets one last glance at the woman’s tiny wave before he’s being shooed into away into the taxi Cas somehow managed to find, her gaze still in his mind as the she fades behind them.

* * *

  
By the time night rolls around Cas is sure he’s going to pass out from exhaustion. He dragged Dean everywhere in the city trying to spark the lost memory in his mind, but nothing really stood out. Dean claimed remembered little things with the places they visited, like the fact that Cas drags Dean to the art museum every Saturday to get inspiration for his paintings. When they visited a local burger joint Dean said he remembered that he absolutely adores burgers and hates hot dogs, and with a quick trip to the park he learned that he really loves being outdoors. He even remembered that he works as a library research assistant without even seeing the place. Yet nothing about Cas sparked in his memory with their adventures, and Cas is about to blow a fuse because of it. Is it his own fault that Dean can’t remember anything? Is he really that unremarkable? Does Dean not love him as much as he loves Dean? He quickly shoos that last thought out of his mind; he can’t afford to think that way.  
  
Dean pays the cab driver this time and the two men exit the vehicle. Cas digs in his pocket for the key and pushes open the door, beelining for the couch the minute it comes into his view. With a short fall he collapses on the leather surface, groaning in pleasure as his body melts into the soft cushioning. His eyes automatically start to flutter and he would have fallen right asleep if it wasn’t for Dean staring at him from the doorway, a small smirk on his face.  
  
Cas flips over to look Dean in the eye. “What are you looking at?”  
  
The man shoves his hands in his pockets and leans back against the door frame. “Just you. It’s nice to see you in your natural habitat for a change. It suits you.”  
  
_It’s your habitat too, you know_ Cas thinks bitterly.  
  
“But I can’t help but feel like I’ve been here before, like some freaky deja-vu. Like…I’ve lived here before or…wait…I live here with you, don’t I? We’re roommates?”  
  
The heart of Castiel Novak is about to beat out of his chest and spew all over the walls. Dean’s memory isn’t perfect, but for now it’ll do. Cas still has confidence that he’ll remember soon enough and thinks it best not to push it. “Yes Dean, you do live here,” Cas says with a clear sign of relief in his voice. “You’ve lived here for about a year now.”  
  
Dean just nods slowly, taking in the place with that emerald gaze of his. “Yeah…you’re right. It’s starting to come back to me a bit. Did Sam and Jess live here with us for a bit too? Last summer when Sam was away from Stanford and Jess was working at her internship, right?”  
  
Cas can’t help but smile. “Yes Winchester, that’s correct. It was quite the living experience if I remember correctly. Sam and Jess were procreating like bunnies that summer and we both thought she would be pregnant by the time they moved out in August.”  
  
Dean laughs. “Yeah, I remember that now. You had to pay me a hundred bucks because it didn’t happen! That was one great summer,” he reminisces, his eyes growing cloudy with the memory. “And…oh God, Cas…I remember where my room is!” he exclaims like a small child, and Cas just sighs when he pushes up on the couch to follow him down the hallway.  
  
Sure enough Dean stops right in front of their bedroom, the mahogany double doors thrown open to reveal the space. Dean’s influence is clearly stated in the giant bed that takes up the majority of the room, along with the bookshelves that line the walls with hundreds of comics and novels by obscure authors Cas has never heard of. Cas's own influence in the room is a lot more subtle, coming out in the dark accents of the paint and the pile of art supplies thrown into the corner. It’s subtle enough that Dean doesn’t catch on that they share this room, and Cas is completely unsure of if this is a blessing or a curse right now.  
  
“Oh how could I forget this place?” Dean says as he walks into the space with his arms thrown out at his sides. “This is amazing.”  
  
He grins as Dean throws himself on the bed, flipping over to stare at the ceiling. He walks forward and tentatively takes a seat on the edge, trying not to invade Dean’s space even though he wants nothing more. Seeing Dean back in their bed is making Cas remember all the nights they spent there entangled together, and his body aches for that connection.  
  
Dean huffs out a breath as his body sinks into the mattress. “Something still doesn’t feel right, though,” he says. “Like there is still a huge part of me gone, like I’m a puzzle with a piece missing. Cas…what if I never remember? What if I'm never whole again?”  
  
“You can't think like that,” Cas replies, turning to look Dean in the eyes. “Listen to me; I have faith in you, Dean Winchester. This will all come back to you because it’s important, and you never give up on important things. Just give it time. Besides, Jess did say the most important things come back last.”  
   
“Well I can’t remember you for the life of me. Are you saying that you’re really important then? Because I don’t see you as a prideful asshole, Novak,” Dean stated with a grin.  
  
“Then you don’t remember me at all, do you Winchester? Because I think I’m pretty much an asshole roughly fifty percent of the time,” he jokes back. The easy laughter that comes from Dean makes Cas's stomach flutter.  
  
“Then I must really love you then,” Dean replies without missing a beat.  
  
They both freeze as the words leave Dean’s lips, the shocked silence that comes afterwards reverberating through the space. Did Dean really say that? Did Cas hear those words right? Could it possibly be…  
  
“Sorry, man. I have no clue why I said that, honestly. I guess…I have this suspicion that there is something between us, something special. I can’t shake the feeling that we were together once, even if we’re not anymore.”  
  
“Oh Dean…”  
  
“And before you jump in and spill everything…can you please not?” Dean asks with his eyes averted. “This is one thing I want to remember on my own, if that’s okay.”  
  
“Of course,” Cas whispers back softly. “Anything you need.”  
  
He watches Dean as he takes off his glasses and twirls them around in his fingers nervously.  
  
“Uh…I’ll let you get some sleep,” Cas says awkwardly, getting up to leave the room, but a hand lands on his back and stops him.  
  
“Cas…”  
  
He spins around to find Dean’s piercing gaze on him. “Yeah, Dean?”  
  
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Dean gets out in a huff. “Can you…stay here with me?”  
  
Cas doesn’t know what to do. He knows that the smart thing would be to say no and let Dean remember first before they delve into that part of their relationship, but that little voice in the back of his head tells him that this may just be the one thing Dean needs to push the memory forward, to make that connection in his head. It is for that reason Cas doesn’t hesitate to walk over to Dean’s side of the bed and take a seat inches from his body, the heat palpitating in the air around them.  
  
The two just look at each other at first, drinking in the other person with their fierce gaze. Cas has no clue how many seconds, minutes, hours pass before the space between them shrinks to almost nothing, the two men only centimeters apart. Cas can feel Dean’s breath on his neck and it makes his stomach flip. His mind is racing the with should’s and shouldn’ts of this situation, but he doesn’t get to think too hard before Dean closes the space between them and interlocks their lips together in a delicious kiss.  
  
Cas's whole body feels like it is in an inferno when Dean kisses him; he didn’t know how starved he was for Dean’s hands on his body until one gently combs through his hair while the other cups his face. Cas doesn’t hesitate to kiss back with all the force he can muster, pinning Dean to the bed as they intertwine together. It doesn’t take long for both men to shed their shirts, and then Dean’s hands move to roam over Cas's bare chest. He shivers at the contact, and in this hurricane of ecstasy he can forget everything that’s wrong. He lets the fact that Dean doesn’t remember him fade away along with his anxieties about final exam grading. In this world of desire it is only him and Dean in this moment, and right now it is enough. Cas lets himself give in to the sensation that is Dean underneath him and lets the rest of the world fade away.

* * *

  
The bright light awakens Dean the next morning and for a second he thinks he’s still back at the hospital. But that thought only lasts a few short seconds before Dean realizes where he really is and what happened last night.  
  
Dean quickly turns over to find Castiel asleep at his side, his arm thrown over Dean’s body like a protective shield. The light hits Cas's face and makes his eyelids flutter, but Cas only grunts before shoving his face in the pillow.  
  
He just brushes one stray hair from Cas's face and turns away to let him sleep, grabbing his glasses off the bedside table before starting his tiptoeing journey across the room. He thinks he’s doing pretty well when he makes it to the bathroom without knocking anything over, but of course trips on the throw rug the minute he walks inside and ends up sprawled on the floor. He knows one more thing about himself now: he’s incredibly clumsy.  
  
“Are you okay?” a voice rings out from behind him.  
  
Dean feels around for his lost glasses and readjusts them on his face before looking up at Castiel. Cas leans against the door frame with a smug smile on his lips, his clothes still abandoned on the floor behind him. Even though he doesn’t remember a lot right now he can easily say that Cas is the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. His black tattoos stand out strikingly against his pale skin, especially the obsidian wings he has penned on his back. He adores how Cas's hair is tousled and falls in his face, the angled cut covering up one of his brilliant blue eyes. Everything about Cas is breathtaking, enrapturing, beautiful.  
  
But the most important thing about Cas isn’t his body at all, but the man inside it. Over the past few weeks Dean has become ridiculously attuned to Castiel, feeling almost an emptiness in the air when he’s not around. He’s fallen for the soul beneath the skin, the heart behind the body. He’s totally enamored with the boy who goes to the art museum for fun one day and then blasts Fall Out Boy the next, the man who paints like a pro but also teaches high school science for a living. He’s fallen hard for this boy with the complex soul and the open heart, and it is then that Dean realizes that he knows more about Cas than he ever imagined. It is almost a comfort; if he never remembers who Cas was to him before does it really matter anymore? He’s in love with the man standing before him, and now he’s terrified he will get his memory back and all his feelings will change.  
  
All of this flies through his head in an instant before he realizes he never answered Cas's question.  
  
“I’m fine,” Dean replies as he pushes up from the floor, grabbing Cas's hand for support. Cas yanks him off the ground with too much force and the two of them go spiraling backwards through the doorway, falling into an awkward dance before they crash on the bedside. “Okay…maybe not exactly fine.”  
  
Cas breaks out into chest heaving laughter as he rolls off of Dean’s body. “Damn, I was hoping that accident would have fixed your lack of balance,” Cas says. “I guess that was a little bit of wishful thinking.”  
  
“Yeah yeah yeah, you just go ahead and make fun,” Dean replies with a smirk on his face. “Now can you please put some clothes on? You’re horribly distracting this way.”  
  
Castiel just throws Dean one wink before he picks up his abandoned garments from the floor and shoves them back on his body. “You better get dressed too, Winchester,” Cas says. “I’ve got one more place to show you today and I’m pretty sure you’ll remember this one.”  
  
Dean throws Cas a quizzical look. “You seem pretty optimistic. Where is this place?”  
  
Of course Dean isn’t expecting a response; he’s learned that Cas loves mystery and surprises. “You’ll see,” Cas taunts playfully as he walks out the door. “Be ready to go in fifteen!” he calls as he walks away, leaving Dean alone in the empty space.  
  


After an hour long car ride and three very shady towns later, the taxi cab pulls up in front of a small church on an abandoned country road. The outside is worn down from years of disuse, the white paint peeling off the wooden paneling. The doors are cracked and a huge hole gapes in one of the stain glass windows, yet there is a charm to the place, a familiarity sparking in Dean’s mind. It is almost like he has been here before. And when Dean raises his eyes to the steeple standing tall in the sky, Dean can feel a little part of that wall in his mind crumble. Yes, he’s been here before. Four months ago for a small wedding he sat in this abandoned church with family and friends. Who’s wedding it was still remains unknown, and as much as Dean tries he can’t push through that ever present barrier that has been taunting him for weeks now.  
  
After they pay the taxi driver the yellow cab drives off, leaving them alone on this country road. Cas doesn’t hesitate to walk forward and push open the doors with barely a finger, the rusted out hinges creaking ominously as they swing open. Cas gestures for Dean to follow him inside, so he does.  
  
The church may look old and destroyed on the outside but Dean’s breath is taken away when he witnesses the inside. Rivulets of light stream through the stain glass windows that line the cathedral walls, throwing reflections of color on the floor. A flowered arch is set up at the front of the sanctuary and simple white chiffon draping covers the pews. It all looks familiar, too familiar.  
  
And that is when he remembers it all. He can practically visualize that mental wall in his head, all the parts pummeled to the ground expect for one massive section, the part of his brain that holds any memory of Cas. He feels like his head is pounding as he visualizes the walls quaking with the memories pounding on the other side, desperately trying to be freed. After a few thorough punches, Dean feels the breath knocked out of him as the images swirl into his head.  
  
He sees him and Cas at the Roadhouse Bar back when they first met in high school, Dean automatically being enraptured with the dark and handsome boy before him. He remembers that Cas was the reason him and Jo broke up; Dean was more interested in tracking down Cas after that night than he was interested in Jo, so they ended things with a huge fight and vows to never speak again. He can feel his mind race as his memories skip ahead a few years down the road, Dean working at the comic book store downtown to pay for his college tuition. He sees a man dressed in black enter the store and his heart soars when he realizes it is Cas from the bar all those years ago. Somehow he gets the courage to talk him up and they end up going out a week later. The memories speed up with firsts; he remembers their first date at a coffee shop in their city, their first kiss on the shores of Milton beach. He can visualize all the anniversaries, all the fights, all the times they almost broke up only to come back together again because they couldn’t stand to be apart. And then he remembers one of the happiest moments in his life, Cas getting down on one knee after seven years of dating to ask for Dean’s hand in marriage.  
   
Suddenly everything is in perfect clarity in Dean’s memory, like the weight has been lifted from his head. The reason this church looks so familiar is because this is where he and Cas got married four months ago. Everything is exactly as it was back then; Cas is even playing their wedding song from his phone, a violin cover of Carry on My Wayward Son.  
  
“Oh Cas,” Dean whispers, walking towards Cas with a new life in his veins. “I remember you. I remember everything.”  
  
“Remember what exactly?” Cas says quietly, his face skewed into an expression of restrained hope.  
  
“I remember that you’re Castiel James Novak and you’re the love of my life. I remember that you’re the one who changed everything for me, showed me what it means to truly live. And I remember that four months ago I made you mine forever right here in this exact spot in front of all our friends and family. I remember-“  
  
But he gets cut off with Castiel’s kiss, those lips crashing into his like a wave meeting the shoreline. Everything is Cas in that moment; Cas's fingers entwining in his hair, Cas's lips devouring his own like a man deprived. With the kiss Dean feels the missing puzzle piece of his life slide back into place and suddenly he feels whole; he feels complete.  
  
When they break away Cas has tears running down his cheeks, and when a salty taste lands on his tongue Dean realizes he does too. The relief that rushes through his system is almost tangible; he finally feels right again after all these weeks.  
  
“That took you long enough, you bastard,” Cas teases playfully, but Dean can tell his heart isn’t in it.  
  
“How could I forget you, Cas? How could I forget my own husband? I wouldn’t blame you if you left me for that,” Dean taunts back.  
  
Cas wipes the runaway tears from his face and pulls Dean into a spellbinding hug. “I’m never letting you go again,” he whispers in Dean’s ear.  
  
Dean grins at that and pecks one quick kiss on Cas's lips. “I love you, Castiel.”  
  
“I love you too, Dean. And I’ve got just the thing to prove it.”  
  
Cas steps away from Dean and digs around in his pocket, pulling out a Ziploc bag from the depths. Inside is the object that gleams brightly, Dean’s lost wedding ring. Cas opens up the bag carefully and drops the object into his palm, eyeing it with a glow in his gaze. With one swift motion Castiel takes the ring in his fingers and slides it back into its rightful spot on Dean’s left hand.  
  
“There, now everything is right in the world again,” Cas says lightly. “Now we can go home.”  
  
“Nah,” Dean replies with a smile. “With you, I’m already there.”  



End file.
